


Phobos

by Tiara_of_Sapphires



Series: To Love a Martian [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, Porn with a little more plot than I had planned, Post-"Manhunter", Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6538702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiara_of_Sapphires/pseuds/Tiara_of_Sapphires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Phobos: the second moon of Mars, named after the Greek god of fear.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Or: Alex and J'onn are on the run. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phobos

**Author's Note:**

> Look…I could not have a Deimos without a Phobos. So I would suggest reading “Deimos” before reading this or else some stuff might not make sense.  
> Thank you to all who commented and such on Deimos! <3  
> Enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supergirl or any of its characters, this is for my own personal enjoyment or whatever blah blah blah.

Alex’s eyes had not left their shared laptop in hours. J’onn knew that because, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his gaze from her for more than a few minutes. And the reason was not only because he liked looking at her, because he did like looking at her. He was concerned. It had been several days since they went on the run and with every passing day Alex seemed to recede further and further into herself.

He had managed to get her to shower as soon as they checked in, but she glued herself to the laptop immediately afterwards. Obtained after several favors were called in with some of Alex’s more… _unsavory_ acquaintances, it was their one tool in trying to track down CADMUS. Where there was internet, Alex was on it, searching through government databases and trying to find threads that would lead them closer to their goal.

The light from the screen washed over her face, making her look pallid and tired.

She was tired. He didn't need to brush over her mind to know that; she was practically radiating a fatigue that he felt himself.

“You need to sleep, Alex,” he spoke up, breaking the silence that had been hanging over the room for longer than he cared to think about.

She didn't respond; instead her gaze turned more intense, her fingers typing more quickly. It was clear that she was ignoring him and it was clear she wanted him to know it.

His eyes drifted to the muted television that was his sorry attempt at a distraction, a chipper weatherman reporting rain for the next couple of days. And then they drifted back to the woman sitting in a rickety chair.

“You're going to run yourself into the ground,” J’onn insisted.

He could feel the spike of anger and annoyance from her like a slap in the face.

“I’m fine,” she said.

She wasn't fine. They both knew that. And J’onn knew that he should be doing something about it.

But why was he feeling so paralyzed?

The fraternization regulations, the protocols, all of these things that came with being in a para-military organization had killed any chances of them forming a relationship; a legitimate one, at least. They hung in a limbo between professional and romantic, never able to be just one or the other. They couldn’t. They wanted to be together; that was obvious. But there was a whole host of problems that came with a boss dating their subordinate, especially in their line of work.

Sometimes he wasn't even sure what was happening,-if there was a romantic relationship there at all. Then she would give him a heated glance or brush her hand against his as she passed by, and he knew.

But the rules were not there, not anymore. The two of them were just… _people_ , free to do what they pleased.

He got up from where he sat on the bed, the bed they were eventually going to share. He walked over to where Alex was sitting and closed the laptop, careful not to hurt her fingers.

“What are you doing? I’m trying to work!” Alex snapped.

“You have been at this for hours,” J’onn said, prying the computer from her hands. “It's time for you to take a break.”

Something like rage lit up her eyes, taking him aback.

“They were going to dissect you. They were going to do God knows what to you. I can’t take a break while these bastards are still out there,” she spat.

“And what about you? They were going to do horrible things to you too,” J’onn said, anger coloring his words in answer.

He warned her to keep her distance, to distance herself from him. She should have pretended that their relationship was strictly professional and that she felt just as betrayed as the rest of the DEO. She wouldn't listen. Of course she wouldn't listen. It wasn't in her nature to abandon anyone, certainly not him. And she paid the price for her loyalty.

He tried to not think about that. The fact that not only his life was forfeit before Kara and Lucy intercepted the truck, but that hers was as well. Because of him.

He almost lost her because of him.

He didn't know what CADMUS would have done with a human like Alex. He didn't want to know the ‘what ifs’. His mind came up with enough horrifying scenarios on its own. But they had to find out, whatever information they could find on this shadowy organization. They needed to find Jeremiah and rescue him, maybe take down CADMUS if they could.

“Alex—.”

“They were going to take you from me,” Alex raised her voice, cutting him off. Her eyes were bright, chin shaking. 

J’onn stared dumbly at her as she moved past him, her eyes downcast.

She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. J’onn watched her back rise and fall in irregular breaths, not quite sobs, unsure of what to do. The part of him that wanted to push her away for her own safety lingered in his mind, telling him to step out and leave her to her thoughts, to keep her at a distance. But the louder part of him, the one that did not push her away when she first kissed him those weeks ago, told him to go to her and do something.

He sat down next to her, not quite touching her, not yet. A few moments passed and he reached out. His palm spread across the small of her back.

She jerked up into a standing position, as if he electrocuted her. J’onn recoiled, cursing himself for intruding on her space.

Alex whipped around and any apology he wanted to make died on his tongue at the expression on her face: a war between something wild and something tender.

“I want to see you.”

He didn't need to ask what she meant. He didn't want to speak the words aloud.

“Why?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

She opened her mouth and then shut it, the reason escaping her.

“Please, J’onn. Do this for me.”

He knew what she was asking. This, all of this, was because of what he looked like, what he was. She threw her entire life away for him. But while he looked like Hank Henshaw, it was as if she did it all for nothing.

How could he refuse her? How could he deny her this?

The illusion that he was a normal human man faded away and he was as he was, a Martian, sitting on a motel bed.

Alex smiled a small, sad smile and all he could do was stare up at her. He did not know what she was looking for as her eyes searched his face.

She reached out, slowly like he was going to run from her. He didn't move, he barely breathed. Her fingers skimmed over the ridge of his cheek, over his brow, the line of his jaw.

He couldn't help but lean into her hand, subconsciously demanding more. And she gave it to him, her hands roaming the unfamiliarity of his face.

“You aren’t a monster,” she breathed, half to him, half to herself. But he liked to think that she was mostly speaking to him.

He did't deserve her.

He was being selfish; he knew that. He should be focusing on taking down CADMUS and finding Jeremiah. Not fawning over his daughter, polluting her as she touched his face with a reverence that should not have been meant for him.

Alex deserved someone whole and human. Not a broken _Martian_ widower who was centuries older than she.

But they needed each other, whether he liked it or not. He had already gone through the rounds of self-loathing, calling himself pervert, lecher, cradle-robber. He had already contemplated why this new angle in their relationship was a bad idea, wrong, immoral. He constantly told himself that he would end it, push her away and keep her at a distance where romance was impossible. But when she stood before him, touching his face without recoiling over the fact that he wasn't human, not like her, he couldn't deny himself this.

This was too much--her touching his face and seeing him like this in such an intimate setting.

He reached up and grabbed her wrist, halting her movements. The form of Hank Henshaw washed over him once again, something familiar and safe.

“You aren’t a monster, no matter what you look like,” she repeated with a conviction so strong that he could not help but nod in agreement.

He pushed himself to stand, only a few inches between them. His grip on her wrist loosened, moving to lace his fingers with hers.

Alex watched him, waiting for him to make the move. And he did, capturing her lips with his. She melted into him, her free hand cupping the back of his neck.

This was softer; mutual feelings of fear and affection passing unsaid but still there between them. It wasn't hard and possessive like before, like in the sparring room.

He remembered that day. Oh, did he remember. Warmth closed around his throat and spread down his sternum at the memory and the ghost of sensation. It had been a haze of passion and utter desperation on both their parts. It had been mutual claiming, marking each other with lips and teeth and hands.

As much as he had wanted to take her to somewhere private so they could take each other apart, for as long as they needed, they couldn’t. It had to be there, in that sparring room. They had to take what they could, for the limited amount of time that they had. 

After that day, their relationship had seemed perfectly normal, no one the wiser, not even Kara. They hid the stolen glances, the fleeting touches, the rare shared meal.

Even in a lousy motel hundreds of miles from National City with no true threat of discovery, there was still an undercurrent of urgency. Like the storm was going to close over their heads at any moment.

Her hands dug into his shoulders now, pulling him so there was no space between them.

He broke away to bury his face in the curve of her throat, remembering the mark he made on her throat the first time they were together: a purple bruise against pale skin. It was gone now, so he made a new one, nipping just under the hinge of her jaw. Not satisfied, his moved down the line of her neck, across her shoulder and collarbone, leaving kisses and the occasional bruise that would color vividly in the morning.

Alex moaned at the warring sensations, her hands roaming the planes of his chest and back, branding him in her own way.

Their hips slotted together and J’onn exhaled as his burgeoning erection pressed against her abdomen.

“Someone’s excited,” Alex breathed against his lips.

“I'm always excited around you.”

She grinned and rested her hands on his chest. She pushed, enough to get the message across.

He sat down on the bed, the springs groaning in protest, once again staring up at her with mild confusion.

Alex stepped forward between his spread legs. She leaned down and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Her own shirt and bra followed, leaving her naked from the waist up.

J’onn wanted to touch. He wanted to touch her everywhere.

She knelt between his legs before he could, mischief sparkling in her eyes. Her fingers undid the button and zipper of his pants, her warm palm pressing against him.

“Alex,” he said, trailing off into a hiss, helping her pull his pants down his thighs, exposing his erection.

Her hand closed around him, stroking, bringing him to full hardness. And she leaned down, taking him inside of her mouth. J’onn inhaled sharply through his nose in shock, a strangled noise catching in his throat.

“Alex!” he exclaimed, almost thrusting into the warmth of her mouth and choking her.

She bobbed her head up and down, working her fist around what would not fit. Her free hand wandered, over his thighs and abs, alternating between light caresses and teasing scratches. J’onn shivered at the obscene wet sounds that mingled with his harsh breathing.

His hand found the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair. And he looked. At the curve of her spine, the flush high on her cheeks, the stretch of her lips around him.

He wanted. He wanted her and everything she could give him.

She moaned around his length, the vibrations almost sending him over the edge. He pulled her off of him before he spilled into her mouth, their labored breathing filling the room.

Alex looked up at him with glazed eyes. Her lips were shiny with spit, face flushed, and J’onn bit back a moan at the sight.

They connected again in a flurry of motion, J’onn able to taste himself on her lips. The rest of their clothes were flung haphazardly onto the ground. They didn't care, as long as the space between them got smaller and smaller.

Pushing and pulling, they moved up the bed until he was on his back, Alex’s legs bracketing his hips.

Alex positioned herself over him, rubbing the head of his erection over her core. Finally, she sank down on him, bracing her hands on his chest. She stopped when he was fully sheathed inside of her. He could feel her body twitch as she got used to the stretch.

Unconsciously, J’onn bucked his hips, his grip on her tightening. She ground down in answer, both of them moaning at the sensation. Heat sparked up and down his spine as she began to rock against him.

His hands moved, stroking what skin he could reach. He cupped her breasts, fingers rolling over her nipples. Alex hiccupped a sigh and he made it his mission to hear as many of those sounds as possible.

He thrust his hips up as she pushed down, skin slapping against skin. Alex threw her head back, angling herself so each thrust tore a moan out of her throat. The pace suddenly changed from something slow and almost thoughtful to something fast and frantic.

He was going to get her to finish before he did. He wanted to give this to her.

But it seemed that she had the opposite idea, suddenly bearing down on him, swiveling and clenching around him. His hands dug into her hips as he tried to keep himself from coming too soon. He was probably going to leave bruises again: another reminder of their activities. He would have to make up for them later.

J’onn rolled them over so Alex was pressed against the mattress, covered by his body. She arched in an incoherent shout as the angle changed. Her legs locked around his waist, pulling him closer until his hips were flush against hers.

Beautiful. She really was beautiful.

J’onn gripped her leg, hitching it higher as he thrust into her.

They kissed, sloppy and inelegant. There was no rhythm, only a discordant harmony as they moved against each other, finding pleasure in each other.

He reached down between them and rubbed on the sensitive bundle of nerves that had Alex bucking against him the first time they were together. He wasn't disappointed.

Alex cried out his name, writhing underneath him as she reached her climax. She tightened around him, vice-like, and he could not hold on. He spilled inside of her with an answering groan, rocking into her through their releases.

“Alex,” he whispered as he cupped her face with his hand.

“J’onn,” she replied, shutting her eyes and leaning into the touch.

They held each other close, kissing languidly. The moment, the intimacy, was not gone, only changed in the afterglow. After cleaning themselves, they lay in bed together.

Alex curled up against him and rested her head against his chest. While he had a feeling she was not going to disappear after he fell asleep, it did not hurt to be cautious. He pulled her close, neither of them saying anything.

“You are good, J’onn J’onzz. No matter what anyone says,” she whispered, right before her breathing evened out.

J’onn smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Alex was still in his arms, sound asleep, when he awoke the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, a lot longer than I had planned.  
> Thank you so much to Juulna for looking this over!!!  
> Any and all feedback is much appreciated!  
> Hit me up on Tumblr at tiaraofreylos if you want to cry over this ship with me.  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires


End file.
